Shattered
by Alley-Oop
Summary: I uploaded this once, but accidentally deleted it, so I'm reposting it. Keria and Jak's friendship is going down the drain. Can they save it?
1. Broken Friendship

Shattered

Chapter One: Broken Friendship

A sweet voice, hollow and clear, slipped into Jak's room like a breath of wind. So light and calm, it hovered in his ears. He opened his eyes and slowly got to his feet. Did he smell yacow bacon? Who was in his apartment and who had let them in? He looked around the room and saw Daxter curled tightly on his pillow, playing and twitching in his dreams. He looked so helpless, Jak thought, like he was still the short, red-haired boy, pale and face dotted with freckles. Letting his eyes scan the floor, Jak remembered the incident vividly. The lurker, the artifact, the accident… and he had promised Daxter that he would be changed back, that he would help him. But after all that, Jak hadn't been able to. Not even the green sage, powerful though he was, could turn the poor ottsel back.

His thoughts finally drifting back to the present, Jak stepped out of the tiny bedroom. He was hit with a wave of mouth-watering smells. Bacon, ham, eggs, toast, just the smell of a feast in general. But who had cooked it all? Where had it come from? Daxter and he had been too tired to cook anything after their mission the previous night.

Jakpulled outhis gun - which he always had at the ready- hastily and stepped timidly into the kitchen. A sigh of relief reached his lips as he realized that it was just Keira who had been cooking the fabulous meal laid before him on the familiar wooden table.

"Keira, you should really ask before you come in," Jak said groggily, still not fully awake. He put his gun down on the table.

"Ask? Of course I asked. Daxter let me in," Keira explained. "But he must've gone back to bed. I pounded on your door for twenty minutes before Daxter finally opened it. You were out cold."

"I bet. I was really tired," Jak said. He felt no regrets for sleeping in, although he was very glad to see Keira, making him breakfast, nonetheless…

Finally, after a long silence, Keira slammed down the last plate of steaming hot food. "Time to eat!" she announced loudly, obviously trying to wake Daxter. He came trudging out of the room, stretching his arms and rubbing his tired eyes. He spotted the food and was upon it in less than a heartbeat.

"Wow! Glad I let you in, Keira!" said Daxter through mouthfuls, crumbs of toast flying everywhere.

"Yeah, me too. No talking with your mouth full," Keira said, pointing to a chair with a heaping plate sitting lonely in front of it. Daxter seemed to have a look of sympathy on his face as he looked at the lone food. He scuttled over and began, once again, stuffing his face with the delicious meats and other breakfast items.

How Daxter ate so much, so fast, Jak and Keira would never know. They just stared in amazement as bite after bite slipped down the ottsel's throat. They watched as his frame seemed to slowly expand in front of their eyes. When Daxter was finished, and Jak and Keira had just began to eat, the ottsel fell over on the table, letting small gurgling noises escape his throat.

"Now that…THAT is what I call a breakfast fit for a king!" he slurred through his fullness. Keira laughed and Jak smiled. Jak got up and lifted the ottsel gently over to the couch in the other room. Daxter, in his stuffed state, could not protest or get back up to waddle over to the table. He just laid on the couch cushions relaxing.

Jak sat back down to finish his meal.

"You're not talking much today," Keira observed.

"I'm thinking," Jak said inattentively.

"About what?" Keira asked in general interest.

"Was that you singing?" Jak asked, looking at Keira. He was obviously trying to change the subject. But his eyes danced wildly in the dim light above the table. How Keira loved his eyes… they were like great stars that twinkled in the night and cast an eerie glow around. How excited they looked. How happy Keira thought with a sigh.

"Keira? Was that you singing this morning?" Jak asked again, waving a long-fingered hand in front of her.

"Yeah. That was me. Why? Was it horrible?" Keira asked suddenly in alarm. She had hoped Jak hadn't heard her, and now that she knew he had, she was embarrassed.

"No, not at all. It was really good," Jak said, once again escaping to the confines of his thoughts. Keira wondered what Jak really thought about when he was alone. She wondered what his nightmares were about every night- what could possibly scare him so much that he screamed in his sleep?-and what he thought when he… changed: When those ugly horns, sharp and twisted, sprouted. What happened when his claws grew sharp and thick and darkness ate away his glorious blue eyes? What did he think about when he was… beside himself? Keira knew better than to prod Jak for answers, that would only bring conflict and invoke anger. But what did Daxter know? Could she somehow get him to reveal some answers? If so, when? Now, while he was in his bloated state and Jak was lost in thought? If she knew, could she help Jak handle it? She knew that no one so far had been able to help Jak at all, not even his best friend in the world, the one that had stuck by his side through everything- Daxter.

Keira, still turning over the ideas in her mind, sat at the table until Jak was finally finished. Deftly, she lifted the dirty plates, deposited them into the sink, and began to tuck the leftovers into the empty fridge.

"Thanks, Keira," Jak said softly.

"No problem. I couldn't let our heroes go hungry," she said, trying to emit a laugh from Jak. The statement lost its humor on Jak before she had even said it. Something had been bothering Jak lately, and it was obvious to Keira.

"Jak," she said warmly, setting down beside him. She laid her hand on top of his, which were folded on the table. Jak seemed to almost flinch. It had been a long time since someone had touched him with good intensions, besides the ottsel that was permanently perched on his shoulder. But before he could protest, Keira went on. "You haven't been yourself lately. I wonder if… something's wrong," Keira said, her eyes wide with concern. This flared Jak's temper. He had been touchy lately, just like a time bomb waiting to explode on anyone who came within its deadly boundaries. But Keira wasn't afraid. She would've walk into a mine field if it meant helping Jak get over whatever was wrong. But Jak thought of this as sympathy, that Keira sypathized for him. He hated it, it made him feel weak, like he was inferior, and he was too bull-headed to admit that anything was wrong.

"What's it to you?" said Jak, his eyebrows hanging low over his eyes. He glared at Keira and retreated his hands away from her warm, gentle touch.

"I want to help," Keira said desperately. Why had she brought it up? She knew it would bring no good. Looking at her shaking hands, she said: "I care about you."

"If you care so much, you would leave me alone!" Jak said. He knew that Keira didn't deserve his temperament and that he was riding on the edge of their friendship, but they had been through this so many times. Why did she keep bringing it up? It flamed his temper horribly. Everytime they met, she thought something was wrong, and- even if it was- Jak either changed the subject of just plained denied it.

"If I didn't care, I would let you sulk and wouldn't cook and clean for you, Jak!" Keira tossed. The statement stung Jak. He really hadn't noticed all the things that Keira had done for him lately. Not only was he feeling guilty, but Keira had never raised her voice during one of their arguments. It made him realize what a thin string their relationship was really running on. But Keira went on, depicting all the little things she had done for him: laundry, dishes, shining his favorite armor, even updating his hoverboard so he could go faster yet have more balance- just chores in general that Jak and Daxter never really thought about or had time for.

Jak saw the hurt in Keira's eyes. He knew she wanted the arguing to stop, she wanted their friendship to resume its former status. They had been so close, like two peas in a pod… What had happened? Jak hadn't been paying attention when Keira had first hinted that their familiarity was dwindling, and now he wished he had. It would've saved them both a lot of pain.

Keira had continued raving while Jak was lost in his thoughts. He hadn't noticed the tears in her eyes, or her clenched fist rising at her side. It was until she pounded her fist on the table that Jak snapped back to reality.

"Jak! You weren't even listening. You always said that I didn't care about you… Well, I think it's the other way around. This friendship can't last. Good-bye. I hope you enjoyed your breakfast, because it's the last one I'm ever cooking for you." This being said, she stomped through Jak's apartment. Jak stopped her at the door.

"Keira, wait!" he cried. Keira paused half-in and half-out thefront of the door. She had desperately hoped that Jak would give her an apology. If only he would say sorry, then all would be forgiven. But, so far, Keira had been hoping in vain.

"Don't go like this…" he said. Keira was infuriated.

"You just don't get it, do you Jak?" she cried. "We're done. I _never_ want to see you again. You thought that you could have my friendship because you have pretty blonde hair and a handsome smile? You thought you could use me, let me do all the work while you prance around the city being praised like a pampered prince? No, it doesn't work that way! To be friends, both people have to work at it. I tried, Jak. I told you it would come to this. I _showed_ you all along, and you ignored me just like I was an abandoned cruiser or something… Good-bye, Jak."

Now that Jak had been told off, Keira ran out the door and down the street. She ran until her lungs burned, she ran until her legs collapsed under her. Where was she? She looked around. The slums, she was in the slums. The thick green water churned under the rotting piers and docks. It bubbled and sloshed, making Keira feel sick just to listen to it. But she watched as one small current drifted into another so easily. It seemed so effortless, how the two separate currents joined each other. Why couldn't people be that way? Why couldn't they just flow together to make a big forceful current, sweeping through the waters and watching the birds dive and catch the small fish, or the large fish eating the smaller fish… Why couldn't Jak have understood? Jak was the larger current, his path straight with a hard pull, but she was the trickling stream. She had to think about each move before she made it, she had to examine things carefully and make an effort to get past obstacles. Why couldn't she be a strong current, like Jak. Why couldn't Jak be a slow, steady stream? Why did he have to be a tugging river?

Keira sighed and threw a small rock that she found on the pier into the center of the gathering current. She watched it swirl about, being pulled here and there, until, finally, the small stone hit bottom. Keira felt like the stone now, being pulled about until she finally hit rock bottom. Keira tried to choke back her tears, but it was impossible. She was overwhelmed with emotions and she needed to cry. Her salty tears of pain dripped off the tip of her nose into the water. She was once again aware of the sickening sloshing and got to her feet, wiping away the tears furiously. She took a few deep breaths and continued back the way she had come.

_I,_ she decided, _will become a river._


	2. Stronger

Shattered

Chapter Two: Stronger

Keira sat on her couch in misery. She didn't know the first thing about how to become stronger, but she did know she had to be. She wondered what Jak was doing, she wondered if he missed her half as badly as she missed him. Images of him filled her mind, his big blue eyes, shiny blonde hair. She couldn't even _dream_ of a more handsome hero. But he wasn't only handsome, no, not at all, he had many other qualities. He had his integrity, always going at the impossible prepared and with confidence, getting the job done; perseverance, how he never gave up, he always persisted; and his indomitable spirit, how strong he was, always rising to the challenge and defeating his obstacles. Oh yes, he possessed so many qualities that Keira only wished could be hers. But once she thought about it, they were hers also, they just needed to be tamed and put to use. But how did you tame such things, and how could you use them? Keira decided to ask her father.

Samos was in a reasonably good mood when Keira approached him with her questions in Haven Forest. Her father had suggested they meet there.

"You've been thinking a lot lately, haven't you?" he asked once he had heard all of Keira's questions. Of course, that was a rhetorical question, so Keira did not answer. "You want to tame these things, and that is a great journey. You must travel deep within yourself. Everything that you could ever want lies here," Samos laid a finger where Keira's heart was, "waiting to be called on."

"How do I call on it?" asked Keira eagerly. She wanted to get to work, but the sage was taking so long to get to the point! He took his time, listening to the sounds of the outside world. The innocent birds chirping, the stream trickling by, the whispers of the wind dancing through the canopy.

"Stop asking so many questions. Just listen, feel nature's course and meditate on it for a moment," Samos instructed. It seemed so difficult. Meditate, he said. Listen, be calm. Keira took a few deep breaths, hoping to relax herself. She found it difficult to clear her mind, but once she did it swam with all the different sounds and colors. The red birds singing happily, the yellow butterfly fluttering silently. And a memory came. No, not a memory, something else… A daydream, maybe, a memory… possibly…

_The old beach. The waves lapped at the sand, the crabs fidgeted nervously, the sun was hanging low in the sky. The gulls cried their harmonies and settled in their nests, awaiting darkness. Keira sat on the beach, looking off over the broad expanse of sea, its vastness overwhelming. She watched the retreating clouds tumble across the sky, the light continuously dimming in the consuming darkness. It was so peaceful… yet so lonely. What was the point of such beauty if no one was there to share it? _

_But she wasn't alone. As she focused on herself, sitting there, knees pulled to her chest, she noticed the blonde sitting beside her. Jak. Jak was there. They held hands, watching the evaporating light. And then something happened… Jak spoke! _

_"It reminds me of home…" he said. His voice was not the deep one he had now. Instead, it was high, almost shrill. But the way he said it, the longing in his voice… it didn't change anything. _

_"Where's home?" asked Keira. It was obvious neither of them were speaking of their dinky village. They were speaking of somewhere much better, but they didn't know where…_

_"I don't remember where. But it was better than this there. Everything was beautiful… just like you," he said. Keira blushed…_ _And the memory faded as Keira slunk into the strong arms of Jak._

Keira didn't know what that was all about, but after the "vision" had faded, she could still smell the salty air riding on the breeze. How she missed her old village, with its huts, and the beach, with its surrounding warmth.

She didn't know why, but Keira felt herself grow stronger, suddenly realizing that that _was_ her past. It was a memory. She had opened her mind and allowed herself to recall that moment. And it was at that instant that she felt she had to make things right. She and Jak belonged together, how could she have been so foolish?

_Because I was scared,_ thought Keira. _I thought that something would happen to us, and so I tore us apart._

Keira looked around. The sun had long since set and Samos was nowhere to be seen. Keira scrabbled to her feet and ran back to the city. She ran and ran, trying to get to Jak's apartment before it was too dark to see.

How she made it there, it will always remain a mystery- just like how Daxter managed to eat so much food in one meal and stilldigest itthe next day-, but Keira finally made it to Jak's front door. Exhausted and gasping for air, her chest heaving, Keira pounded on the door for all she was worth. She heard stumbling and the cock of a gun. Good ol' Jak, always on alert.

The door flew open and Keira was greeted with the barrel of a long-range rifle in her face. She pushed it out of the way with the palm of her hand and stepped forward. Jak and Keira stared at each other for a long moment. They were both tense and Keira was still panting- she had run halfway across the city for goodness sakes!

Jak broke the silence: "Keira-"

Before he could continue, Keira embraced him fiercely. It was the boldest move she had ever made towards any man beside her father. Jak felt awkward, never having really been hugged before. But, in spite of himself, he smiled. It felt good to be cared about.

"Jak! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it. I talked to daddy and- and… well, I had a memory-" Keira tried to say everything at once. Jak placed his fingers on her lips to shush her. She had started crying by this point, her pants for air turning to heaving sobs.

"Keira, it's okay. I thought about what you said…" Jak said gently, looking away with shame on his face. Was Jak admitting he was wrong? Could he bare it, to tell someone he was mistaken, let alone Keira? Or would he disappoint her again, making her run away in a fury of anger and tears? "You were right…" he said, just as Keira had hoped.

"I guess I'll leave you two to it then, 'cause this ottsel's got to get some beauty sleep," said Daxter, who had watched the whole reunion. Both Jak and Keira ignored him as he stalked off silently to the next room.

A few minutes later, however they got there, Jak and Keira were cuddled on Jak's balcony, looking at the stars.

"Do you remember the beach?" Keira asked him.

"Yes," Jak said, becoming lost in memories of his past.

"Do you remember when we used to watch the sunset together? We would curl up on the sand and… and you talked. You told me that the sunset reminded you of home. Do you remember?" Keira asked. She looked into Jak's eyes. The stars reflected off of them… and she saw that his eyes were watering. He was a tough warrior, and it was strange to see his tears. But she also had tears of her own. She felt them sliding down her cheeks.

"I remember where home was. We said it was far away, on an island. I said that everything was beautiful.…just like you." Was Jak still the same warrior? Was he the one that had fought and killed so many metal heads? Was he the one that had saved her village from the lurkers? It seemed impossible as the two sat there with each other. He was so sensitive and his pride wasn't showing. Keira thought she was hallucinating until she felt Jak's hand grasp her own.

"I do have a sensitive side. That boy from the past, the one that used to sit with you on the beach until you fell asleep, then carry you home… I'm still him," Jak said. Keira wanted to faint, or melt, or be blown away with the gently tugging wind.

"Do you smell it?" asked Keira after a long while of peaceful silence.

"No," Jak said, inhaling deeply.

"Don't try to smell it, just sense it," Keira said gently. She knew these instructions weren't very clear, but she also knew that they were true. The aroma was there for those that wanted to smell it and knew it existed, not for those that only attempted.

Jak smiled as a new scent filled his nostrils. It was the natural perfume of the great sea. A salty tint rode on the breeze, enveloping the two elves.

Jak had never been this open to anyone since he had been a boy. That seemed so long ago. He did remember the scene on the beach, and he remembered it vividly. He thought of home. His home before the village. It had been covered with a variety of flowers- red, orange, blue, purple- - there were poppies and other types of flowersthat he couldn't even name. The buildings they used to live in were much warmer than the huts, and much smaller than some. They were made of bricksor mud, depending on how wealthy your family was,and they had real roofs, not thatch ones that needed repaired constantly, or wooden ones that rotted and needed replaced. But, for the life of him, Jak couldn't recall the name of his old home.

He remembered before he had gone mute. He had laughed and sang with the other children at this distant place. But instead of his voice growing deeper, it became shrill and he eventually just stopped talking, his voice so high it was unable to be heard anyway.

Then, after he was told of his parents' deaths, he had been sent to live in the village with his uncle. The people had been somewhat friendly, although they found it strange and disturbing that he did not speak. All but two of the villagers turned him away. Daxter, who was now Jak's best friend, and Keira, who was sitting in a ball next to him, hugging her knees to her chest.

"You know Keira, home was a real place," Jak said. He had always led her to think that it was just a fantasy place to escape reality, he had never told her it was real. Maybe it was because he knew that Keira would love to go there, but he could never go back. It was the place where his parents had been slaughtered, where everything was perfect- too perfect. But then again, sitting under the starlight, Jak felt a slightly familiar feeling, as if, at one point before this time, he had lived here before.

But Keira had fallen asleep. It had been a long day and she was exhausted. And, just like old times, Jak carried her into his warm apartment.

"We're home," he whispered to her, "we're home..."


End file.
